


Playing Peekaboo

by Raisintorte, Wojelah



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-06
Updated: 2007-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisintorte/pseuds/Raisintorte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wojelah/pseuds/Wojelah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cadman takes Ronon to a tattoo parlor on Earth.  John is surprised by the results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Peekaboo

**Author's Note:**

> I started this for omglawdork's birthday (Happy Birthday!!) and I coerced wojelah into finishing it. Smittywing pulled clean up duty and made it all make sense. :-)

They were in the workout room sparring the first time John noticed the hint of purple on the strip of flesh on Ronon's lower back, peeking out between his shirt and pants. John tried to get a closer look, but he'd already been staring at Ronon's butt for too long because Lorne was giving him funny looks. He could almost make out the top of a butterfly, but that couldn't be right. Ronon was all about the tattoos, but he didn't really seem like the butterfly type.

 _Thwack!_ John grunted as Lorne's sticks made direct contact with his stomach. Just the thought of Ronon with a purple butterfly tattoo distracted him enough that he was getting his ass kicked. When Lorne landed his third direct hit in a row, it was enough to snap John out of butterfly land and back to reality and sparring. He'd think about that tattoo later.

When they were done sparring they both had other things to do around Atlantis so he didn't get an opportunity to ask until later that night when they were hanging out in his quarters. John was fooling around with his guitar and Ronon was reading a comic book. "So, Ronon?"

"Yeah?" Ronon grunted in return, not looking up from the comic book he appeared to be engrossed in.

John strummed out a few more notes, trying to act casual, but his curiosity was getting the best of him. "Is that a purple butterfly tattoo on your lower back?"

"Yeah? So?" Ronon set the comic book on the floor next to the bed and propped himself up on his elbows. Ronon was laying at the foot of the bed, John at the head.

And _wow_ , it was a butterfly tattoo. John set the guitar down and leaned back on the bed. "When did you get a butterfly tattoo?"

"On Earth. I wanted a tattoo to mark my first trip." Ronon paused for a second and grinned before he said, "Cadman took me."

Well, that certainly explained a lot. "And did she suggest the butterfly?" John was trying to picture in his head how that conversation went down, and it was almost too mind-boggling.

"I wanted something that represented earth and strength. She suggested a butterfly - it's a strong, graceful creature. Enduring."

Yeah, John would have loved to been a fly on that wall during that one. He bet Cadman even kept a straight face. "Have any of the marines seen your tattoo yet?"

"Yeah. They all thought it was awesome." Ronon laid back down and put his hands behind his head. "Even Lorne complimented me. Said he might get one."

The thought of Lorne complimenting Ronon's tattoo made John snort a bit. "Really? Lorne said that?"

"Yup. We were sparring last week. Said it was the perfect souvenir from a trip to earth."

"Oh he did, did he." This made John think back to big file of tattoo pictures that he received but never looked at - he was going to have to take a closer look at Lorne's. He always thought it was stupid the military made everyone categorize their tats but now it might be useful.

Ronon picked the comic back up, flipping through idly. "Yeah. Said it'd make people curious."

 _Curious_ , John thought. _Yeah. That's it_. "Huh," was all he said, and he picked up the guitar again. He picked his way through a couple of songs, flicking a glance at Ronon now and again, but the other guy never moved - just chucked the comic book aside and closed his eyes. Sheppard had almost convinced himself to let it go when Ronon turned onto his stomach, the movement tugging those damn leather pants down his hips, and John pretty much lost any hope of the F major 7 chord he'd been trying to hold.

Ronon cracked an eye open at the jangling strings. "Sheppard," he rumbled, drawing one knee higher up on the bed, so that very little of the butterfly was left to John's imagination.

John swallowed, fingers itching to trace the thin purple lines. "Yeah," he managed.

"Stop staring."

John flushed, stomach lurching, and put the guitar down. He was nearly at the door when Ronon's palm wrapped around his bicep and tugged him back.

"Where you going? We're in _your_ room." Ronon drawled, raising an eyebrow, dropping his hands to his waistband and popping the fly.

"I -"

"You could've just asked," Ronon interrupted. "Cadman said you'd wimp out, though." His lips curled into a smile.

"Oh, _did_ she now," John demanded, bizarrely stung. He lifted his chin. "Guess I'll have to prove her wrong."

"Guess so," Ronon growled, and sidestepped John's lunge neatly. Which was fine with John, who used the movement to tug Ronon off-balance and wrestle him to the floor, where after an extremely interesting and energetic wrestling match, he finally managed to map every inch of the damn tat.

Much, much later, sprawled in a tangle of arms and legs and dreadlocks, John stared at the ceiling and grinned like an idiot. "Suppose I'll have to thank Cadman, too."

"Suppose so," Ronon mumbled sleepily, and John gave up trying to keep his own eyes open, tumbling into sleep with one hand still on the small of Ronon's back, pressed against a very interesting, very purple butterfly.


End file.
